It is you (I have loved)
by orlha
Summary: When Steve finds his soulmate, he finally realizes what true love is and then everything goes wrong.
1. First Meetings

**Things to Note:**

This was originally part of the "What about Love" series and has been separated for plot lines, etc.

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Steve had been nursing that beer bottle the whole night, choosing to sit right beside the piano away from all the other guests. He usually prefers to not participate in Tony's parties but he feels he needed to show some face time this time due to Coulson's team.

But Sam really knows that he isn't there for Coulson or even Tony.

"Are you going to stare at her all night?" Sam teased Steve.

He hadn't quite looked away ever since Coulson had introduced the team to him. Skye was like a fire that burnt so brightly that he wasn't quite able to look straight at her or away from her. Her eyes twinkle with merriment as she looks across the room, momentarily catching his blue eyes with her dark exotic eyes. He likes the way her eyes slant, the way the dark chocolate brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when she grins at her team mates.

He watches her casually flicking her hair from her face and imagines how it'd look spread across his bed sheets. His heart stumbles when she grins widely at him and she waves.

"Look, she's coming." Sam elbows him and Steve bats him away. His mind is trying to come up with something to say. He licks his lips, gulping audibly that Sam bursts in laughter.

"Skye!" Sam grins and claps her on her shoulder. "How is Weiner?"

Steve splutters at Sam's words. "Weiner?" he asks, glancing askance at Sam.

"I gave her a Cactus last month for her birthday and she named it Weiner because 'it looks like one'" he air quotes.

"Because it does!" she playfully punches him.

Steve doesn't know how Sam knows Skye and tries to smother that weird burning feeling in his chest. How is Sam related to Skye? What is his relationship like with Skye? He watches them exchange quips like old buddies and feels like he's the odd one out.

"Skye, take the old man out to dance." Sam motions to him and pushes her to him.

She smirks at him and holds her hand out.

"I can't dance. I have two left feet and I keep stepping on people's feet and I really can't dance. Even B-"

"Shut up and dance with me," she says with a smile so bright, Steve thinks he might have been blinded by it. She pulls him onto the dance floor and pokes him in the chest. "So you're the reason why my left cheek is filled with words."

He blushes instantly. She doesn't need to specify where this cheek is because it's obviously not on her face. His mind runs wild with the image of him running his fingers down her ass, across his handwriting. His heart is singing with a song so loudly that he is pretty sure she is able to hear it.

"It's a song." He blurts out and mentally groans how incapable he is still at speaking with beautiful dames.

"A song?"

"Your words. They thought someone would sing it to me. Tony thought it might be a singer and dragged me out to the lounges in hopes I'd find one-"

"Shut up and kiss me." She laughs.

"Yes ma'am," he replies before leaning in to capture her lips with his, burying his hands in her hair. Sam and Tony catcalls across the room but he can't be bothered to respond to them, he's too busy kissing his soulmate.


	2. Moving in

**A/N: Sexual content ahead!**

* * *

They are dancing, swaying to the music that Skye had picked. Skye is mildly intoxicated from the cider that Steve had bought, wearing nothing but his shirt and she leans her head onto his shoulder, taking a not too subtle breath. Steve wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close.

Six months ago, he couldn't imagine what life would be with someone that he loved; now he wondered how he even had lived without her. He gazes at her, a warm feeling of happiness blooming beneath his skin. He presses his lips on hers.

He hums the song, moving his hands to skim over bare thighs and slipping under his T-shirt to her soft warm flesh beneath. Her breath hitches as his fingers curl around her bare waist and she grinds her hip to his, still swaying to the beat. Steve bends, planting light kisses down her face then down her neck.

"Round three?" he whispers. His hands ghosts down her hips, palming her ass, up her thighs, finger curling into her hot, wet cleft. Her body trembles, arching into him. He inserts another, flexing them and caressing that spot she loves.

"Don't tease," she pants. He tugs her shirt off, her fingers pulling his boxers down. Lifting her body, he pushes her up against the wall and sheathes himself to the groin in a single thrust. Her legs circle his waist instinctively, hands cupping his neck. She gasps when his lips find her nipples and thumb circles around her clit. "Steve-" her breath catches in her throat as he pulls himself almost all the way out and thrusts back in.

He kisses her, feeling her moans in his mouth, mapping her mouth with his tongue. Teeth tugging at her lips, he thrusts into her, feeling harder with the way she calls his name. He hooks her legs over his arm, pushing further in. Rational thoughts all flying away while he buries his face in the crook of her neck, teeth scraping her neck; breathing her scent, hearing her cry and quiver for him, losing himself as he rides her home.

* * *

He wakes to the sound of whatever nonsense ringtone Skye currently has on her phone. She always makes a point to pick the most annoying one which at the moment a song called Bang bang or something like that. Skye is already up, pulling his shirt over her and hoisting her backpack.

"I got to go. Got to pack my room before Jemma decides to scream hysterically and toss everything into the laundry bin." She kisses him, rubs her on his stubble. "Love you," she waves and the whirlwind called Skye was gone.

Not even ten minutes after she leaves, Steve finds himself missing her. It is 10pm and the bed feels bigger without her presence. He curls around her pillow, breathing in her scent and falls asleep longing for her warm between his arms.

Steve doesn't always go to the Avengers' Tower, but when he does, it is always when Skye is around. She has a regular room there that she shares with Simmons. Seeing this was Stark, their regular room is really a whole floor and big enough to fit his entire apartment thrice and more. It is one of the reasons why he doesn't stay there - apart from the annoying snooping Stark that catcalls every time he catches them kissing - he doesn't like the excessive space.

He finds Skye where she always is - in the computer labs, fingers clacking away rapidly. Her eyes light up, letting her smile widen into a brilliant grin. "Stevie-o!"

He circles round the table, swings her chair around and swoops down for a lingering kiss.

"Move in with me," he asks. He wants to wake up every day with her in his arms, make breakfast for her, play whose foot would be on top of the pile today as they lounge on the couch. She freezes and Steve for a moment is afraid that he has asked too early.

"Skye… I'm sorry if I-" His words is cut off by a loud 'Okay' and a hug that almost squeezes the air out of his lungs.

* * *

Steve is helping her bring her boxes up to his apartment. He is somewhat surprised that she only has two boxes of things - two boxes and her slingbag as she insists. It isn't a lot of things and from subtle hints from Coulson, Steve realizes it's because she thinks that she'll be forced to move after a few years and doesn't think it's worth hoping that it would be something permanent.

So Steve makes a plan.

He might not be the most subtle one but he's glad that Natasha and even Tony has picked up on it and pitched in the 'Get Skye more stuff and put roots down' plan. The table that Tony 'accidentally' smashes is picked out by Skye just as the television and bed. Steve would swear that him breaking the couch is entirely an accident but everyone in the 'Get Skye more stuff and put roots down' plan knows it's not true.

* * *

Skye picks a bright blue couch that is entirely mis-matched from their apartment. He stares at the couch, flickering back at her who twists her hands worriedly. Oddly, he actually doesn't mind the colour, it quite reminds him of the sky, which in turns reminds him of Skye.

"Look, I know it doesn't match," she motions wildly before he can get a word in. "It's sort of like your suit uniform. Reminds me of you. I was thinking if I could throw a red blanket over it…"

He blinks at her then breaks out in laughter. Figures why that they were soulmates, they even followed the same line of thought.

"I love it," he whispers and claims her lips.


	3. All I want

**A/N: #demfeelings**

Kudos if you spot the Doctor Who's reference. No one really dies but its still sad and I highly recommend reading this while listening to 'All I want' but Kodaline.

* * *

"Don't forget to water Weiner," Skye said the moment he answered.

"Hi Sweetheart is what I think you missed out," he deadpanned.

"Hi babe, don't forget-"

He hears a low hum at the background. Solid, low pitched engines. A big plane and that usually meant big mission. He doesn't like it when she goes on missions without him but he can't go into the field with her. He's too recognizable and her missions requires her to not be noticed.

"Yes, I've watered Weiner. Don't worry." She's oddly very attached to her cactus, he makes a note to ask her about her attachment to it. "Be careful, call me after your mission is over."

"Sir, yes sir! Love you!"

* * *

"Steve! Suit up! Some radioactive jellyfish is destroying a town in Australia," Tony calls over the intercom.

He pats for his phone while on the plane and groans. "Left my phone on the counter. Skye's gonna get mad if she calls in later and I don't pick up."

Sam laughs. "Did you remember to water Weiner?"

Tony snorts at his question. It's a famous inside joke, everyone knows her abnormal attachment to her cactus. "If you forget to water Weiner and it dies-" The duo mime an exploding motion.

"Actually I think there's a reason for it," Bruce says, cleaning his glasses. "She got the cactus from Sam and met Steve through him. The cactus probably reminds her of the first time she met you."

Steve smiled. He still remembers the first time he saw her, her smile that was so bright, it felt like his world had been a monotony of grey before he met her.

* * *

Six missed calls.

Skye was going to be so pissed. He thumbed across the security pad and scrolled through the missed call list.

Six missed calls from Coulson.

 _Captain Rogers, please call me as soon as possible - Coulson._

He calls and calls, but the phone does not connect. "Jarvis, can you connect me to Coulson?" But all he gets is the same result. He traces the words on his hipbone as though to reassure himself.

Tony slides in beside, tablet in hand. "I can't get their last location either-" He grumbles.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. It's Skye after all." Sam comforts.

"And she's with the Calvary and Mockingbird." Barton adds.

They're right. It'll be fine, right?

* * *

Steve is eating an apple pie in the kitchen with the team, when he senses a jolt of overwhelming fear crashing through his bond. Then a spiking pain where his soulmark is. The pain knocks him silly for a brief instant, he instinctively clutches his soulmark, almost tearing his trousers off in his panic to console himself that everything is alright.

"Steve?"

He doesn't hear them calling. His mark is greyed out and the hollowness for where the bond used to be tells him all he needs. He struggles for control, the grief in his chest clawing to crawl out. The sound of his heart beating traitorously swamps his ears, muting his senses.

"Skye… she's she's-" his voice falters, hands seeking for support as his legs threaten to fold beneath him. He palms his forehead, drawing harsh ragged breaths into his burning lungs, releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding. "She's gone-" Blinking away the hot tears, he looks up. He hates the sympathy in their faces. "I - I need… I need to water Weiner. She asked me too. She'll get mad if I don't."

"Steve-" Tony begins.

He isn't in the mood to talk. He just wants to be alone.

Steve hurries back to the apartment that they share. Already it feels colder and emptier than it was three days ago. It seems so silly that just three days ago she was calling to remind him to water Weiner. She always does that just before she goes off-grid. Then she always calls and asks if he remembered. He always remembers but she always asks anyway.

The memory of meeting him. A spot of colour in the shades of grey.

He crashes onto the sofa.

The sofa that they picked out together. It's blue, sky blue. It doesn't match everything else but it didn't matter. She says it reminds her of his uniform and the colour reminds him of her.

They spend hours on this sofa. She loves helping him catch up with pop culture, he loves watching her hover in the can't hold a tune but loves to hum anyway when she cooks.

Steve stares blankly at the kitchen.

He won't hear that tuneless hum again or eat her cooking. He won't be able to feel her warmth as they spoon at night.

Then he grips his head and cries.

"Get up."

Steve wakes up to a female voice. "Skye?"

"No. Get up." She slaps him hard and he shoots up, smacking her head.

"Natasha?"

"We're going." She throws his jacket at him.

He just slumps over the sofa with a loud sigh. "I'm not going." He doesn't want to go to her funeral. He doesn't want to watch her be buried.

"She's not dead."

Steve stands suddenly and pushes his hands through his hair. He knows his mark is still grey, it sounds impossible, it seems impossible but if Skye could be alive, it wouldn't matter anyway. "Explain."

"Yes that's the thing. We're going to get explained. Now. Let's go. Barton's got the quintjet ready."

* * *

It is night when they arrive.

"Oh good! You're here," Simmons says cheerfully, a bright smile from ear to ear. "She's just finished her quarantine, so you two can rest in her room. I'll- just get her sheets changed."

Steve isn't paying attention to her or his teammates. He only has eyes for the girl behind the glass. She is crying into the shoulder of another man.

"Skye?"

Startled, she looks up. "Steve?" her voice is so soft that Steve barely picks it up. This is not the girl he remembers. Skye is proud, Skye is hopelessly snarky that she goes toe to toe with Tony and sometimes - a lot of times, he thinks that Tony might be her father.

He steps into the cell, brushing past the engineer. "Baby?" He cradles her, holds her so tight that she has difficulty breathing. "I thought-" A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I thought you died. I thought I lost you." He leans his chin against her hair, breathing in the smell he thought he'd never smell again. He hated how scared, how defeated she looked.

"Tell me something. Skye. Tell me anything."

She buried her face into his leather jacket, letting out a shuddering breath. "Something's wrong with me-"

He could feel her body shaking. "I- I don't think I'm human anymore-"

"Shhhh. It's okay. I got you. I got you." He pressed a kissed into her hair. "I'm always running to you. Always." He held her close, stilling her trembling body, promising never to let her go again.


	4. End of all days

Okay. Trigger warnings first: **#Angst #A lot of Angst #Smut ahead!** I wrote like 4 sentences in the whole smut fest and realize I CAN'T DO THIS. So then LadyWinterlight and Ozhawk has so kindly helped me write it. Seriously. I really only wrote 4 sentences - the first paragraph and one sentence in the middle. Thank you to my lovely Critterlady for betaing this chapter.. and pretty much most of my work.

Notes: Things will get better eventually, it's not a sad ending. I promise.

* * *

His fingers threads through her soft brown hair, hand tracing her curves then stopping on her hip. He brushes the hair off her back, pressing soft kisses down her spine and stopping where his handwriting is. Steve mouths it, elbows digging into the mattress to support him.

She wiggles her hips, teasing and encouraging him. He chuckles, lips still on her skin, and she moans softly. "Mmm… feels nice."

"That's the idea," he murmurs back. She grins at him over her shoulder. His lips follow her spine back up to her neck, then down along her shoulder. He presses against her back, loving the feel of her body against his. She arches her back, pressing her hips against his and sliding her ass over his hard cock. His moans mingle with hers for a moment, then he scoops her up. Sits back on his heels with her perched on his lap, her legs automatically parting as she straddles his lap.

He trails kisses along her shoulder as his hands slide caresses up her belly to her breasts. He grins at the sound of her moaning and continues to tease her nipples with his fingertips. Licking at the base of her neck, he mouths up the slope, teeth grazing the soft flesh. She convulsed with a groan, hand reaching behind her to the hard flesh pressing between her ass cheeks, slender fingers wrapping around him.

Steve makes a low hungry sound in his chest, fingers squeezing and tugging her nipples more urgently as Skye's hand slides down, up, down again. Eager to love her, to make her his again, he wastes little time running one hand down over her flat stomach, sinking into the moist heat between her thighs.

"You're wet," he whispers in her ear, nibbling the lobe gently as he presses first one, then two fingers in deep.

"Want you," she gasps in return, hips rolling against his hand. "Steve, please, don't make me wait, I need you."

He spreads her thighs with his knee and sheathes himself with slow, short thrusts - while he's eager for her too, he has no intention of rushing things and not pleasuring her. By the time he's fully inside, Skye's shuddering and moaning, her head rolling back against his shoulder.

It takes Steve a few moments to realise that something is terribly wrong. That while her soulmark is in full contact with his, nothing is happening. There is no connection between them, nothing to indicate that they ever were soulmates, or might be again.

Maybe it's triggered by orgasm, he thinks hopefully, and moves the hand he still has splayed on Skye's stomach down between her legs, fingers her clit lightly until she begins to clench on him, slow at first, then increasing as he thrusts up harder, seeking his own release.

And as they both come down from the high, Steve realizes that the feeling that should have appeared at the back of his head doesn't return. The bond. The bond that was broken didn't reconnect.

"Steve-" She pants, "Why? Why can't I feel you?" Her head turns, her eyes searching for his, her brown catching his blue stricken eyes. "Steve? Did we miss it? Did our marks not touch?"

Steve leans his head on her shoulder and holds her tight. "Skye-" his voice is shaky as he tries to figure if they did something wrong. The time when they first bonded hadn't been any different. He draws a breath and she pulls off him, turning to him. Her fingers trace his cheekbones, her eyes mirroring the fear and anguish that churns in him.

"We're not soulmates anymore are we?" she whispers. Fear closed on his throat as she pulls away, the bed begins to shake, not because of her trembling. It feels more like a tremor.

"There's earthquakes here?" He pulls her close and reaches for his shield.

"It's me…"

"Let's just get to somewhere safe before we finish this conversation…" he tries to pull her towards the door when she puts her feet down, wrenching herself from his grip.

"It's me Steve. This… shaking is me…" she palms her chest, her breath shudders in harsh gasps as she swipes the tears away furiously. "It was me Steve. Trip… I killed him. I broke the temple. I… I… I can't stop the shaking. I'm not even human. All this is my fault, all my fault…"

"Skye-" Steve draws her closer, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, his hand gently tilting her face to him. "Skye. Don't cry." Steve kisses her tears away, stilling her shaking body with his large body. He doesn't care if their bond never reforms, he doesn't care if she's human or not human, green, blue, black, red; he still loves her all the same. The shaking in the room begins to lessen and eventually stills when Skye pulls away.

"Our bond is broken, Steve." Skye chokes on her saliva, furiously wiping the tears away. "I'm not your soulmate anymore. I'm not even shaking. What if I can't stop the shaking?"

"Skye. Please. You could be Asgardian, Kree for all I care. With fire powers, with green, blue or red skin for all I care. I don't care." He cups her face with his large hands, kissing her lips slowly and sensually. "I still love you all the same, with or without this soulmate thing. I saw you that day when you stepped off the plane and it felt like I had been walking in darkness the whole time. I wondered how I even survived without you."

"I'm sorry, Steve." She pushes herself away from the bed. Steve grips her wrist, unwilling to let her go. "Someday, the Fates will send you a new person and you'll fall in love again with them." Skye kisses his forehead, fingers tugging at his grip.

"I don't want a different person," he retorts, "I only want you." He tugs her towards him, banding his arms around her, holding her firmly. "I love you." He reiterates. "I love you Skye. And I'll keep saying it until you hear it. I love you. I love you. I love you."

"I'm not human anymore."

"I don't care about that!"

"I'm not your soulmate!"

"Then the Fates can go fuck themselves!" She falls silent, Steve never swears unless he really meant it and she knew it. "I only want you by my side, Skye. Only you." His body trembling, joining hers as he said, begging her, "Please don't leave me."

* * *

"That looks like alien fighting. I'm not sure if Skye is ready for field work yet" Steve folds his arms unhappily when he hears they are sending Skye.

"Steve. I'm fine."

"Skye-" he starts and she levels him a look.

She jerks him by his collar, "Sorry. Steve and I have to talk."

"Skye if you go out now-" he begins the moment they enter their quarters. He sits on the bed watching her pace the small room. She knows how this would play and while it's charming for him to play white knight for her, she's a field agent. He can't swaddle her in cotton and protect her from the world outside. He desperately wants to but she's never been inclined to play the damsel in distress and while Steve loves that about her, he wishes she would just let him. Just once. "What about your… thing. We still haven't figured it out yet."

"There's no We Steve." She shakes her head and cross her arms. "There's only me."

"What? I'm still here." He's losing her all over again, pushing him away because she doesn't think she deserves it. "I'll always be here for you."

"I'm sorry Steve. This won't work Steve. You know that too." She takes a wavering step back, hand gripping her hair. "You're an incredible person, a good man, never giving up a quarter to save a life. I always knew you were too good for me."

He honestly thinks the only reason why it won't work is because she won't accept him, won't accept his love for her because she thinks she's undeserving.

"Skye! Please!" He cups her face. "I can't lose you again." It feels like he's losing Bucky all over again except it's a hundred times worse because it's his soulmate that's walking away from him.

She touches his hand, resting her hand on his cheek. "One day you'll meet someone even more fantastic and marvellous than me. The fates will mark you with him or her and you'll forget this hurt. We had a good run but it's now time to accept its end."

She closes her eyes, kissing his cheek so lightly that Steve barely feels it grazing his skin. "Goodbye Steve Rogers."

She turns and walks down the hallway back to her old room. He wants to chase her, to hold her back but he knows no matter how many times he says it, she isn't listening.

"Captain Rogers," Coulson nods at him, standing beside him in the empty hallway. "Just give her some space, she's still coming to terms with her teammate's death. Not that I'm approving of what she's doing, but it looks like she just needs space."

"Is it alright with you if I take up a guest room?"

Coulson gives him a tight-lipped smile. "Captain, not that we don't have room for you, but I believe if you'd just stay at the Avengers towers for a while. You know- space."

Steve nods reluctantly. "I understand."


	5. Stay

All things taken into consideration, Steve finds himself relieved that super villians never rest. He is on mission after mission when he returns back to the tower. His team mates say nothing of the considerable lack of Skye. Well Stark tried and got an elbow into his gut by Barton before he barely got three words out. Steve tries not to care. It's hard not to care when he hears how this Kree tried to kill Skye or that Sif was insistent about her going to Asgard. But Steve does what he does best - putting on good guy Captain Roger's mask and pretending that he's alright.

At night when he isn't busy being Captain America or searching for Bucky, he sits on the couch, the blue couch, and nurses a nightcap that is really isn't a nightcap but more of the whole bottle. He wonders what's worse - that he can't be drunk when he so desperately wants to or that he's starting to get used to the burn down his throat and now has upgraded to the vodka that Barton swears never to touch again. The clawing void in him seems to flutter with every breath and the sound of his breathing seems to echo in the empty apartment. Steve knows it's only in his mind but the hollowness feels almost tangible.

He hates the lull more than ever. It used to be filled with Skye and him taking off to do stupid things like those locked door games. Skye would sigh with that look in her eyes and say ' _no Steve, you're not going to use your super strength to pull the door open.'_ Picnics, dancing that was less dancing and more of them swaying on the spot with her head tucked into the corner of his neck, things that he can't do any more.

A hand taps him on the shoulder. "Steve?" It isn't Skye and he isn't sure if he is relieved that that pang of disappointment when he thinks of _that_ has been subsiding. Part of him is scared that one day he would stop loving Skye the way she said he would.

"Barton?"

The blonde man sinks into the seat beside him and flips the lamp on. "What's that? The sixth bottle?" He points at the vodka bottle in Steve's hand. "Nat's gonna flip if she finds out that you've been drinking her secret stash." He takes a swig and grimaces. "Shit. The thing's as nasty as I remembered it to be."

"So is it the whole Bucky thing, Steve, or is it the whole Skye thing?" Barton arches an eyebrow and not too slyly pushes the bottle away from Steve. "You know you're gonna have to replace this right? Not sure how you'll be finding _'real'_ Russian Vodka." He air-quotes with a roll of his eyes.

Steve isn't sure if it's Bucky or Skye. Even when he had nothing, he had Bucky but even that has changed since he woke up in this century. He rests his palm against his forehead. It wasn't that everything had changed when he woke up, it was everything changed when he met Skye. If he had to pick between one of them, it would have been Skye every time. A sentiment that Bucky would have understood.

"Just not been my month." He replies at length. He leans his elbows on his knees, head pressing against his clasped hands. "Just so very tired."

"You know…" Barton starts and takes another swig of that vodka with a twist of his lips. "I think you might have been going about the wrong way." He cocks his head at him. "You keep acting like you're okay when clearly you're not. You need to acknowledge it before you can move past it."

"But I don't want to _move past_ it," Steve snarls savagely.

"Then what? What is it you want? Out of life? Out of this?" He motions at the darkened room.

The room's in a mess, bottles scattered on the floor, bags tied with zip ties for throwing, even the books that he had once kept ordered preciously was strewn over the table and chairs. No, Steve doesn't want to live like this. He knows this is no way to live. He can't keep wasting away, waiting, and praying for her to come back, waiting for her _'space'_ to include him.

Three months.

It's been three months since he saw her. Just three months and shit, it feels like a damn eternity. Steve runs a hand down his face, his mind trying to fit things into an orderly manner.

"Okay." Barton interjects before Steve even gets a word out. "You can decide what you want to do. Whether you want to continue your search for your buddy or pining for the girl that isn't your soul mate any more. Whatever your decision is, you have my support." He squeezes his shoulder tightly, frowns then adds. "Though I wouldn't pine for Skye with you. It would be weird. Plus. Pining for a girl? Dude. Seriously?"

Steve chuckles weakly. "Thanks Barton."

"You've _got_ to _stop_ calling me Barton! Call me Clint already!"


End file.
